


A Red Rose Blooms For You~ Missing Duzzy Scenes

by Sootgremlins



Series: Red Rose [2]
Category: Guns N' Roses
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-05-29 18:19:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15078914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sootgremlins/pseuds/Sootgremlins
Summary: Little snippets of Izzy and Duff's relationship that take place in the same timeline as A Red Rose Blooms For You. I recommend reading that before you read these. The only reason they're not directly apart of the other fic is that I didn't want to take away from the other plot lines. Each chapter/scene will have when it takes place in the other fic in the notes.





	1. There Ain't No Grave- Can Hold My Body Down

**Author's Note:**

> Set after chapter seven, after Duff gets Axl.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after chapter three, when Izzy comes home after he fights with Duff.

“You came back,” Duff breathes out. It’s dark in the kitchen, almost pitch black. 

“The fuck did you think I’d do? Don’t have anywhere else to go,” Izzy says. He sounds tired, like the weight of the world just settled onto his shoulders. Maybe it has. Duff doesn’t know what to say, let alone what to do. So he goes with gut instinct. 

He crosses the room in two strides and crushes Izzy to his chest. He may be the closest to him in height, but right now the extra inches seem more evident. Duff isn’t phased by the fact that Izzy’s arms are still limp at his sides. He feels cold, even though it’s summer and the heat seeps through the city and sticks to everyone. 

“You still came back,” Duff says again. Izzy’s hands twitch.

“Yeah,” a pair or arms wind back around Duff, “I did.” Duff smiles in the dark still clinging to Izzy like he’s smoke in the wind that will just float away and leave him with nothing but the fading scent. There’s no one there to see them hug, so it’s okay that it’s lasted this long. It’s okay because there are no strangers on the street or even the rest of the guys to heckle them. It’s just the two of them in the dark. 

“Please don’t leave me, promise me,” Duff says and buries his nose into the tangled brown locks on Izzy’s head. Izzy leans back, separating them. He rests one hand on Duff’s jaw, and the other one rests on his hip. Duff’s eyes flutter closed. 

“You know I can’t promise that,” Duff wants to cry. He knew that Izzy would say that. Nothing ever ties him down. Nothing ever will. Duff knows he isn’t special enough to finally catch Izzy Stradlin. He can’t force it, clipping a bird's wings is to cruel when it flies as far as Izzy does. 

“But,” Izzy starts, “I’ll try. No promises. But I can try.” Duff turns his head and presses a kiss to the palm of Izzy’s hand. Because he can, because it’s dark in the kitchen and Izzy is going to try. Not a promise, but he’s going to try.


	2. I'm Going To Rise Right Out of the Ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set during chapter four, before they leave in the morning. AKA- what happened when I said no one was allowed in the bathroom but Izzy.

He’s out of bleach for his hair again. He should get on that, his darker roots are really showing through. Sometimes he misses his old hair. He liked it when it was blue, much more punk than what it looks like now. In fact, sometimes he misses when he got to dress like a punk rock kid. They’re all changing, so he can’t complain. The band is changing too, and that’s good. It’s getting better and so are their songs. But sometimes he misses it.

He fusses over his hair for another minute before someone knocks on the door, “I said fuck off, Steven! You can shower later, I don’t give a shit.” The door opens and he turns to yell at Stevie for bothering him instead of Axl, but Izzy is standing there and he loses the ability to speak. Why the hell did he not lock the door?

“Can I shower?” Izzy asks looking half asleep.

“Yeah, umm. Yeah, go for it,” Duff stutters out mentally hitting himself for sounding like a blubbering idiot. The corner of Izzy’s lips twitches up in a little smirk. Oh, great. That's just wonderful, he looks stupid and he hasn't even made it out of the house yet. He turns back to the small mirror that's cracked from one of Axl’s rampages. 

In his mind, he knew that Izzy getting a shower means getting undressed. Hypothetically, he was prepared for that. They’ve seen each other naked enough before. But maybe it's because Izzy’s a little bit more modest about stuff like that, or maybe it’s that Duff’s stomach flips when he sees Izzy sometimes that catches him off guard when Izzy takes off his shirt. He tries very hard to focus on his eyeliner instead of the sound of clothes hitting the floor and the shower turning on. Shit, this is how he dies. Right here in this god awful bathroom all because of Izzy. 

“Wanna join,” Izzy laughs before he steps in and Duff fucks up his makeup enough to have to start again. 

“Nope,” he squeaks out and he can hear Izzy laugh again. On any other occasion that would be a beautiful sound.

By the time he finishes reapplying his makeup, the water is being turned off. Fuck his perfect timing. Izzy steps out before Duff can make it out the door and he’s trapped between the sink and one very much naked Izzy Stradlin. Izzy seems unphased as he grabs a towel to wrap around his waist. His hair is still dripping and plastered down against his neck and forehead when he takes a step towards Duff. He reaches past Duff to grab a second towel on the sink. The only problem is that it leaves them almost chest to chest. 

Izzy’s lips look so pretty. Fuck.

Izzy is looking at his lips. Fuck.

Izzy is close enough to kiss. Fuck.

He can’t remember who closes the gap first but thank fuck one of them did. It’s so quick that you would almost miss it, and Izzy pulls back with his towel in one hand and that damn smirk on his face.


	3. Well Look Way Down the River (What Do You Think I See?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set after chapter five, when they get back from playing the show.

Perhaps it’s a little bit low (even for him) to pretend he’s drunk. It’s not a total lie, but he’s definitely a bit soberer than he’s letting on. Because Izzy doesn’t mind if they’re close when he’s drunk. When he's drunk, it's okay if he hangs of Izzy's arm and leans on him when the walk. Somehow it's more normal. 

“Okay,” Izzy sighs, pushing gently on Duff’s back to guide him forward. He goes and flops down on his bed facefirst. The sheets are probably filthy, but nothing has felt better. Rolling over, he reaches up and grabs Izzy’s wrist. Izzy just stands there now tethered to the bed by Duff. He doesn’t pull away from the grasp, but he makes no move to lean into it. It’s a middle ground.

“Sit?” Duff says and it comes out a little slurred, and shit, he might be a little drunker than he thought. Izzy sits down, a little awkwardly at first beside Duff. He can feel the warmth rolling off of him. He wants to grab him and pull him down beside him so they can lay there together. Just for a minute, or maybe until he falls asleep. At this point, he can't get picky.

His fingers play across the sleeve of Izzy’s jacket. He wants to say something to make Izzy stay. He also wants to ask Izzy why he never wants to be too close when he’s sober. Why when they’re not playing shows, Izzy makes sure not to even brush their arms together. Why? It's not very fair, Duff thinks. 

Izzy slowly lowers himself down till they’re lying face to face with only half a foot separating their noses. Duff blinks, slowly trying to stave off the haze of sleep that's creeping in at the corners of his vision. Izzy’s long fingers thread through his hair, and they catch there for a moment, just resting against his scalp, “What the hell am I supposed to do with you?” 

Duff blinks again, Izzy's voice doesn’t sound mean. It would sound mean if they were around the others, but right now, it doesn’t.

He’s supposed to be asking the questions, not Izzy. At least he’s pretty sure he should be. He has more questions, so he deserves more answers. Izzy's eyes look pretty in the dim light, as they travel up and down Duff's face. He's looking for an answer there too.

Izzy smiles a little, and it makes his face look soft. It’s still sad, though. The hand in his hair moves again, till it’s gently stroking over his tangled locks. Duff wonders if Izzy thinks his hair was prettier when it was blue too. He wants to make Izzy happy. With every fiber of his being, he wants to make that smile bigger and his eyes sparkle like they do when he laughs. 

He reaches over and traces Izzy’s lower lip with his thumb like he can still see the smile there. Izzy closes his eyes and sucks air through his nose. He should figure out how to make Izzy happy. If he would let him, he would never stop trying.

“You can hold me?” Duff whispers into the dead air in between them. Izzy’s eyes open, and for a minute, he forgets he was answering Izzy’s question. But Izzy hasn’t forgotten and he scoots closer with a rustle of the sheets. He presses Duff to his chest, hand still tangled in his hair and he holds him. Duff can feel Izzy's heart beating and he can feel his lungs filling. He wishes he could fall asleep like this every night.

What the hell are they supposed to do with each other?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this one seems a little bit weird to read, I wanted to keep Duff's POV and that included his drunk thoughts. :/


	4. I See a Band of Angels and They're Coming After Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set during chapter 6, at the party.

Duff loses interest in the party in about five minutes. There are more hard drugs then there is booze, so it's not like it's his scene anyway. And he doesn’t like the way Izzy gets twitchy when they’re around crowds. He had caught sight of Slash at some point, looking equally bored sprawled across a couch. 

He waits another ten minutes before he grabs Izzy's arm and drags him off toward the bathroom in the back of the house. The brunette immediately goes into panic mode, trying to twist away from the physical contact. Duff gets the door shut and locked before Izzy can scurry away to go shoot up with some junkie at the party. Thank fuck that most of the people are out in the front of the house not back where the bathroom is. As soon as the door clicks shut, Izzy settles down like someone flipped a switch.

They haven’t talked since that night that Duff remembers only in little snatches of feeling and words. They're running out of excuses to not be in the same room with one another. He looms over Izzy in the small space, crowding him up against the sink.

“Can I kiss you?” Duff whispers even though no one could hear them even with an ear to the door because of the pounding music. Izzy nods a yes in one quick movement of his head and that’s all Duff needs as an answer.

Izzy's lips are so much better when he can take his time. Izzy responds almost immediately, pressing back against him. They stay locked for what feels like forever, tongues exploring until Izzy jerks back for air. Duff's hand has migrated to his waist, a firm hold over his hip locking them together. Duff's not even that drunk, but it feels like he's flying, senses overpowered by everything that's definitively Izzy pressed against him.

Things are going well, and Duff is wondering how Izzy would feel if he dropped to his knees right now (or is that too fast, even for them?) when something crashes against the door. Izzy jumps back, fingers losing their grip on Duff's jacket.

“The fuck was that?” Duff huffs before he opens the door, despite Izzy’s noise of protest that someone will see them. And of course, it’s one of his asshat bandmates. Of course, Slash would decide to start a fight right outside the fucking door.


	5. Meet Me in the Middle of the Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set after chapter six, when Slash leaves Duff and Izzy.

Duff watches Slash leave until he stalks off down the block. Stevie trails after him, muttering under his breath. Only then does he let his shoulders drop as he lets out a sigh. He’s fucking tired and way too sober to deal with whatever the fuck is going on. 

Izzy slides up beside him and nudges his arm. He plucks a lit cigarette from his lips and extends it as a sign of good will. He takes it. Izzy’s hand slumps back down to his side, fingers curling even without something to hold. 

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” Duff whispers. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Izzy lick his lips before they part like he was about to say something. Instead, they close again and twist into a hard line. Duff closes his eyes as he takes a drag. The smoke curls in the air and joins the other smells that ghost through the night.

“What makes you think I do?” Izzy says. His fingers dig into his jacket to produce the pack of smokes. He taps one out and lights it, motions never wavering in their path. Duff wants to snap at him, he doesn’t have to be a smart ass about everything. Why does everything they have to do put them on thin ice like this?

He watches the ash fall to the ground before he speaks again, “Do you even know what I’m talking about?” 

Izzy shifts his weight back and forth. He lifts the cigarette to his lips. They’re both thinking, calculating words and gestures, “What, about Slash?” 

Duff snorts. Of course, it’s never about him, is it? It’s about Axl, or the band, or dealing, or the next gig, but it’s never about him. Selfish fucker, “Sure, yeah, Slash. Why don’t you just dance around this one too, I mean you’re pretty good at it.”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” Izzy says as his head jerks to look at Duff. Oh, he got him to lose his cool. If he’s not careful Duff may actually find out what’s going on in that fucked up head of his. 

“Us, Izzy! I’m talking about us,” they’re facing each other now, Duff glaring at Izzy the gap in their heights becoming evident, “What the hell am I to you? Some fucking toy that you can play with, fuck with my emotions? Or is even that too much, even though I have been here for you every goddamn step of the way since I joined this band. But lately you don’t even talk to me anymore, did I get downgraded from friend to just some drunk that you keep around because I play bass in your band?” His mouth won’t shut. He's not even sure why he's saying these things right now, they may be true, but normally he wouldn't say them. The words he keeps locked up spill out and each one draws a different emotion across Izzy’s face.

“Are you fucking serious? You sound like a clingy ass chick, are you not getting enough attention? I can’t keep up with you’re goddamn mood swings, it’s worse than Axl half the time. You wanna know what you are to me? You’re supposed to be a guy I play music with, but then I kissed you and now I fucked it up. How the fuck am I supposed to tell you what you are to me?” Izzy stops for a moment and blinks furiously, “We can’t date, I can’t hold your hand when we’re out, I can’t tell people I have a boyfriend, or whatever the fuck you wanna call it. It sucks ass, but what am I gonna do? We have to move on from each other, okay? I hate it, I hate it so fucking much, but it’s what’s going to happen,” he finishes. Duff is trying to process all of the things just thrown at him. It’s a lot to deal with all in one go. But before he can, Izzy is already turning away, shoulders tensed.

“Wait, dammit,” Duff growls taking a stride until he can stand in front of Izzy again, “Don’t you think I know that we can’t ‘date’ or whatever? I don’t even want that, I just want you to sometimes give me the fucking time of day since we live together. I don’t give a shit about what you think we can or can’t do in public, I’m talking about when it’s just us.” He can’t get Izzy to hold his gaze long enough to judge his reaction. He puts his hands on Izzy’s shoulders and squeezes into the leather until he can feel the heat of Izzy’s skin.

“I think,” Izzy stares at the grass beneath them, “I think I like you. I don’t wanna fuck it up. I don’t want someone else to fuck it up because it’s different. You’re different.” 

Duff shouldn’t kiss him again.

He should walk away because he can still feel the sharp kicks to his ribs when his classmates found him behind the school building with another boy. He still has the scar on his arm from when they shoved him and he caught it on a piece of metal. But he’s not fifteen anymore. 

He should walk away because he can still remember trying to kiss a girl in the back of a stolen car. Not because he likes her, but because she's a girl. And he was supposed to like girls. He can still remember the disgusted look she gave him when he almost broke down right there. But he's not sixteen anymore.

He should walk away because he can still remember gasping his way through a panic attack in the bathroom. Just because a boy in his class had winked at him. But he's not seventeen anymore.

This is now, and this is Izzy.

He kisses him, hard, in the dim light behind someone's house with loud music still thrumming through the air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for any glaring mistakes, I seem to edit these when I'm half asleep.:)


	6. Hold Me Down

Duff feels shaky when he knocks on the door to Izzy’s room. He’s pissed at Slash, but equally scared that he was too late. Or that Axl was too late. If Axl is too late, it’s half his fault for not trying harder sooner. Then again, the other part of this is up to Axl. Everything chases back into a loop that never seems to end. 

“What?” Izzy barks from inside the door, and Duff figures that’s close enough to ‘come in’ as he cares to wait for. He opens the door, trying to forget about Slash for a moment. Izzy lays sprawled across the bed, the smell of weed floating in the air. The room is dim, and Izzy lifts his head off the bed, glancing over his shoulder to catch sight of him. 

“Hey,” is all Duff can come up with, suddenly feeling a lot less smooth without so much booze in his system. A drink would be good right now, and he considers just walking away to go find one instead of awkwardly standing in the doorway.

Izzy rolls over onto his back, patting the empty spot on the bed next to him, “Shut the door, would you?” Duff’s heart jumps to his throat for a second, but he does as asked and lets the door click shut before he unwraps his hand from where he’s had a white-knuckled grip on the knob. He clicks the lock just in case.

The steps he takes between the door and the bed seem more like miles. Izzy pats the bed again, this time a bit more demanding. When he does finally sit, Izzy gives him a small smile. His heart leaps again, just at that little smile. That sweet little smile draws him down, further and further. He lays down beside Izzy, on his side, but not touching quite yet. Izzy rolls to meet him so they’re face to face.

“Has anyone told you you’re pretty?” Izzy whispers like he’s afraid someone other than Duff will hear him speak. He can’t help but blush. Pretty is not a word he usually gets thrown his way. Sure, maybe some girls have called him handsome, or something along those lines, but never pretty. But he can work with it.

In fact, he likes the way it sounds.

“Actually you’re stunning,” Izzy says after a pause and Duff wrinkles his nose at the remark. He can see the corner of Izzy’s mouth twitch slightly like they’re both in on some joke that no one else is.

“You trying to woo me, Stradlin?” he says, and at that, Izzy’s mouth does curl all the way up into a smile.

“I don’t know, am I?” the glint in his eyes has returned. He feels warmth surge through him. 

“You’ve already done that,” it’s Izzy’s turn to blush, and it’s such a nice shade on his cheeks. Izzy reaches his hand out to settle on Duff’s side, fingers brushing over the skin where his shirt rode up. He shivers slightly as Izzy’s thumb runs in circles. 

He still feels distracted, worried that Axl will fuck something up, or maybe Slash will decide to do something stupid too. He doesn’t realize he zoned out until Izzy scoots closer so their foreheads touch. It sucks him back to reality, and he reaches out and grabs a fistful of Izzy’s shirt so they’re even closer. He has to breathe, can’t let his thoughts loose in case they decide to overflow.

“I’m going to try for you,” Izzy mummers softly, “I’m going to try really fucking hard for you.”

From anyone else, ‘try’ wouldn’t mean much. It would be like saying he’ll try to go to a party or try to get to work earlier. But from Izzy? From Izzy, it carries weight. Izzy follows through on things, like how he never stops working a guitar riff until it sounds right, never lets something get under his skin when everyone else is pissed. 

Izzy has a look in his eyes that he gets when he’s determined to get something he wants. Usually Duff isn’t the subject of that particular look, it’s more reserved for when Izzy decides he’s had enough bullshit and he’s going to make it work his way or not at all. 

“Show me,” Duff says, and the challenge is barely hidden in his tone. He doesn’t try to bury the meaning of what he wants in unnecessary.

He can feel Izzy staring at him, really looking deep into him before he speaks, “Oh, I’ll show you.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'll be honest, I could probably make an entire another fic out of these if I expanded a little but I'm just not feeling it. Enjoy!


End file.
